


Landfill

by ALovelyDeath



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Akira and Seidou frick frack, Akira is an emotional wreck of a person, Also it's mostly Akira feeling sorry for herself, Angst, Because it's Akira, F/M, Friends With Benefits, My First Smut, Past Akiramon, Smut, Takes place sometime in the 6 year time skip, They're all broken and hurting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 07:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16614329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALovelyDeath/pseuds/ALovelyDeath
Summary: It's been years but Akira and Seidou still can't move on from each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Throw me in a landfill  
> Don't think about the consequences  
> Throw me in the dirt pit  
> Don't think about the choices that you make  
> Throw me in the water  
> Don't think about the splash I will create"
> 
> \- Landfill, Daughter

Snow waltzes lazily to the ground. Melted snow slithering from her hair down between her ear and phone. “Are you home?” Akira’s voice catches as she chokes back tears.

“Yeah. Not much to do in this weather other than stay in.” Seidou replies.

She wipes at her face, trying to erase the damning evidence and not ruin her makeup. Good. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“I’ll be waiting.” The line goes dead.

She hadn’t wanted to come back to Tokyo, but Amon was too much, too stifling that she couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take the quaint, quiet life they had made for themselves out in Hakone. So she left him. And as much as Tokyo hurt, as much as the memories crush her and the knowledge of her father’s empty grave haunts her she doesn’t regret it. Amon had walked her to the bus station, carried her suitcase for her even, waited for the bus with her and gave her one last kiss before promising that he would still be there for her in whatever capacity she needed him, that he would wait. She had wondered if she was selfish.

She hadn’t talked to him since.

Trying to maintain some semblance of composure proves to be too much and by the time she’s climbed the stairs to the abandoned apartment building and up to the apartment Seidou occupies, her arms are wrapped around her middle in a comfortless self hug. Holding onto old wounds, trying to keep herself from bleeding out.

When Seidou opens the door for her she doesn’t bother with pleasantries before inviting herself in. She expects him to comment on her disheveled appearance but instead of snide observations she finds herself shoved up against the door as he attacks her.

It doesn’t take long for her to respond to his fervent kissing because even though she’s not sure if he’s just impatient and horny or if he wants to help take away her pain she finds she doesn’t care.

Her voice is a breathy plea as she tilts her head back, his lips assaulting her neck, his hands pushing her jacket from her shoulders, “help me forget.” 

She shivers against him, pressing her cold, soaked body closer.

He lifts her and by instinct her legs wrap tightly across his waist. He shoves her skirt up so it bunches at her hips and she hears him fumble briefly with the zipper of his pants.

“Bedroom,” she gasps her mind unable to string together a full sentence as his mouth descends to nip lightly at her left breast.

As if to say no, and she knows that’s what he’s really doing, he presses her harder against the door with his hips, pinning her with exactly the right amount of pressure for her to go pleasantly numb. All thoughts of going to the bedroom wash away in that same numbing pleasure.

“You’re pathetic,” he whispers in her ear as he leads her hand down to the waist of his black trackpants so she can feel him. “Coming to me like this.” He knows this is exactly what she wants, what she needs. It only took a few minutes when they first started seeing each other for him to figure out what it was she craved.

Akira gasps as she feels him, barely holding back a whine. He’s right and it’s such a high, a different kind of high than her antidepressants or alcohol offer her, to have someone call her out on it. These moments are quickly becoming addictive, but if they chase away the pain, the hurt, the betrayal than it’s worth it.

“N-No marks” she reminds him with a shudder of anticipation as he pushes her panties to the side.

“I’ll abide by your dumb rule, don’t worry,” he mumbles against her breasts, hips grinding against hers impatiently.

She can’t hold back the high, breathy sigh as she finally sinks down on him, her head falling back to rest against the door, baring more of herself to him as her spine arches.

“So fucking pathetic.” His first thrust has her keening, nails digging into his shoulders through his cotton shirt, and her head falls forward to rest in the crook of his neck as she holds on for dear life.

“Don’t move. I’m the one in control here, got it?”

She nods against his neck, nails digging in deeper.

“You like giving up control don’t you? As much as you hate it, you crave having someone else take things into their own hands.”

He’s right. It’s such a relief to relinquish control and have him take care of things, take care of her. It’s one of the reasons she craves him so much, he takes the burden off her for a few hours, something she would never allow herself to do with anyone else. Not even Amon. Amon who she had bared everything to, who should have been her soulmate.

“It’s ok,” his voice is warm in her ear, sounding normal, unaffected, despite the pace he’s set. “You can let go with me.”

So she does.

\----

“Never took you for a daddy type,” Seidou remarks afterwards as they lie in his bed.

Cuddling isn’t a good word for the closeness they share after sex. She lies on her side facing him, using his arm as a pillow, but the space between their bodies speaks volumes. She won’t allow anything else. She insists they have to keep a level of distance because they’re not technically dating. Seidou wants to remind her that they already fuck on a regular basis and that cuddling won’t change anything, but he understands his role in her life, he’s not for romance or comfort, the only comfort he can offer, that she’ll accept, is sex. He wonders when he became such a masochist but the answer is that when it comes to her he always has been. What else could explain him agreeing to this relationship. The only type she claimed she could offer him. 

He wants to protect himself from her, from getting hurt again, to shut her out completely like she did with him for so many years, build a wall. But she’s so good at tearing them down.

“I’m not,” she protests. Her voice drops as she chokes up, “I just miss him so much.” Tears roll down her cheeks in fat droplets, clinging to her lashes. 

She regretted it the moment it slipped out, Seidou’s body hovering over hers, his mouth pressing open mouthed kisses to her collarbone, fingers tracing one of the scars on her ribs from when she shielded him. Their unfinished business. An unexpected wave of emotion had descended upon her and she couldn’t hold back her sudden sob of “ _Daddy. Daddy I miss you. I’m sorry.”_

She had been unable to hold it back and broke down. How was she supposed to explain to Seidou the guilt she felt at knowing that her father would hate him? Someone who embraced his ghoul nature, unlike Amon who strives so hard to be human.

Seidou huffs, his own mask falling back into place and unable to enjoy the last moments they had together before she went back home now that she’s brought up her father. He rolls out of his shitty bed that was little more than two blankets on the floor and tugs on his pair of discarded boxers. The smiling faces on the pineapples now seeming to mock him.

“You’re pathetic.” The bedroom door shuts behind him.

The words sting, bring no relief to her like they do during sex, because he means something entirely different. But they are no less true. 

The haze of depression settles back over her thoughts, her vision, clouding them and weighing everything down. She feels a hundred pounds heavier. She curls into a ball, pulling the sheet in closer.

Loneliness settles back into her heart. 

She is alone again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, no this fic isn't dead. Yes it's been almost 4 months since it was updated. In that time I went to the ER 3 times and then kept getting sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker, and have mostly been stuck in bed. So that's the reason for this longgggg delay. I'm so sorry about that. This will be a multichapter fic but given my unresolved health issues I don't know how often this will be updated. Just to get this chapter done a very dear friend of mine offered to help and ghost wrote the last half the chapter. OK now that the boring stuff is out of the way, let's get to it.
> 
> "So leave me in the cold  
> Wait until the snow covers me up  
> So I cannot move  
> So I'm just embedded in the frost"
> 
> \- Landfill, Daughter

Akira props herself up on an elbow as Seidou hands her a can of cold, cheap coffee. He shrugs out of his sweatshirt, leaving him shirtless and sits back against the wall.

Running her finger along the lip of the can she keeps her eyes focused on that as she speaks, “Could I spend the night?”

Seidou looks shocked, eyes widening as he sets his own canned coffee down with a thud. “I don’t have any utilities” he reminds her. As a ghoul he found he didn’t really need utilities. Afterall, he’d slept on the streets for so many years that just having a futon seemed like a luxury. Not that he spent enough time in this rundown apartment to care anyway. 

Akira has never spent the night before, it was too intimate for what they were, to wake up together in the same bed, curled around each other. That wasn’t on the table when Akira had told Seidou what she could offer him.

She nods, still looking at her can of coffee, swirling her fingertips around and around the raised metal lip. The gesture seems vulnerable and it pulls at his stomach in strange ways.

“My place then?” she asks, and it strikes Seidou as odd that she phrased it as a question, not a statement. She had felt smaller than usual under him this afternoon,  not in body, but in presence.

“S-sure.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as they make their way into the apartment Seidou understands why he’s never seen it before tonight. Her apartment speaks of a woman heavily depressed, someone who is barely keeping themselves together.

It’s expected for someone like himself, who lives on the fringes of society but to see Akira, who was always so well put together and organized, it’s like a blow to the gut. He wasn’t expecting such a bare looking apartment to hurt him, he had always pictured Akira’s home to be minimally decorated but functional, but it does. It’s more furnished than his apartment, but barely.

Her living area is made up of two pillows tucked underneath a short round table and a TV in the far right corner. No pictures hanging on the walls. No personal touches. The room could have belonged to anyone. Anonymous.

Seidou gulps but it’s no good, the air in the apartment, despite the open windows, feels stifling and oppressive. He feels like he’s choking.

“I’m going to freshen up,” Akira murmurs, and disappears through a door that must lead to her bedroom.

Seidou heads into the kitchen, just to the left of him and which opens into the living room. With a sinking stomach he takes in the cartons of take-out beside the sink. Lapsing back into old habits he inserts a finger into his mouth to chew on anxiously as he opens her fridge door. He knows he’s snooping at this point but he can’t stop himself.

He tells himself he shouldn’t care what’s in her fridge or even if she’s eating well, because surely that same courtesy and concern wasn’t extended to him.

Half a dozen eggs. Three beers.

Seidou clenches his eyes shut and tilts his head back to rest against the wall, breathing deep.

No. 

No, no, no, nonononononononononononono.

Why does her barren fridge pull his stomach again?

“Hey,” Akira says softly. It’s enough to pull him from his trance and spiralling thoughts.

He jumps, whipping his head around and staring at her wide eyed like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar before dinner. 

She leans against the doorframe and behind her Seidou can see a sliver of her bedroom, but his eyes are on her. They’ve always been on her. There’s never been anything, or anyone else. Just her.

She’s in a tiny silk robe the colour of cherry blossoms and her long legs somehow look even longer. Her arms are wrapped around her midsection in that same self hug he’s caught her doing all too often subconsciously. She’s looking at him, and he can see the exhaustion and vulnerability thinly veiled behind her usual fire.

Seidou crosses the space between them in two steps, bending down to capture her lips in his. He kisses her softly, slowly. With trembling hands he reaches up to cup the sides of her face.

Akira shudders and presses herself against him. 

As he continues to kiss her he wonders why he hasn’t done this before. Why he didn’t worship her like this sooner. When she was obviously so frail and drowning. Why did it take him this long to recognize the hurt she was hiding? Is he still viewing her from the side or is he just selfish and didn’t want to see it? 

Her hand clenches the collar of his shirt as she breaks for air, pulling him deeper into her room. She needs this. She needs him now. 

He lays her gently on her bed, like a princess, smoothing out her hair and kissing her gently before shucking his clothes off with little ceremony, he is after all a pauper in comparison. He’s trembling like it’s his first time all over again. When it’s just his boxers remaining he crawls back to her, capturing her lips again. The silk robe comes undone with a gentle tug and he pushes it off her shoulders, kissing the bare flesh it leaves in its wake. He shifts slightly to kiss her neck, trailing down to her collarbone. A part of him is surprised she’s letting him be this tender, isn’t trying to take back control in her impatience to get started. But no, she seems content for now, if the soft sighs and tugs on his hair is any indicator.

Her body is so warm and her arms hold him against her. It’s their first time making love with each other and Seidou can’t understand why they didn’t do this sooner.

Right. Because she always set the pace, set the boundaries, made the decisions and he just followed along like a dog on a leash.

Eventually Akira grows impatient, as she is prone to do. Giving a groan of frustration, she takes matters into her own hands, angling her hips, urging him to go faster as she thrusts desperately against him, moving entirely out of rhythm with him, wanting him to be rough again, as if the only thing she deserves.

Instead of listening to her, like the old Takizawa Seidou would have, he grips her hips firmly, holding them in place, rubbing soft circles until she stills under his hand. “Just relax,” he says and is amazed when she does, her legs wrap around his waist and she relaxes into the mattress and into his arms.

He doesn’t let go of her hips even still, but continues to rock into her slowly, kissing her jawline.  Enjoying the sensations and the fullness of his heart. They’ve never kissed this tenderly before. Any kisses they did share were always hungry, devouring, with the intent to end up desperately, wildly, wrapped around each other. This kiss is a kiss for the sake of kissing, with no other reason than to feel each other’s lips against their own.

There can be no going back after this for him and he knows it. But he doesn’t mind.

She gasps against his lips as she comes undone, fingers threading through his hair.

As Seidou finishes she cries his name against his lips softly. His name has never sounded so sweet. He stills, their limbs entangled, lips locked.  Her fingers trace his jawline, his cheekbones, his nose, and she breathes heavily, dreamily, her chest expanding and contracting beneath him. He can hear her heart thudding in her chest, feel it pounding against his own.

He doesn’t ever want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, capture the feeling somehow and let it carry him through his darkest moments. It’s a dangerous thought. To place your happiness in other people. It only ends with pain. He suspects she understands all too well.

“Seidou I need to shower,” she sighs.

He lifts his head to look at her, brushing the blonde tangles away as he does so. He rolls off her, landing on the mattress beside her with a soft _oomf_ and watches as she gets up and stretches. She leaves to shower, but not before giving him one last kiss.

The bed is cold without her but he stays laying on his stomach and trying to soak in as much as the remaining warmth as possible before getting up and joining her. Besides, he can’t remember the last time he had a proper shower and he doesn’t want to be alone. 

He announces his arrival with a knock on the door, stepping in behind her and pulls her close. Her back hits his chest with a reassuring thud and she glances up briefly before looking down with a soft smile. He spins them so the stream of warm water pelts his back and holds her, her head tucked under his chin. Her arms wind around his waist.

“Do you wanna wash your hair?” She asks.

“Why? Do you think it needs it?” Proper hygiene isn’t high on his list of priorities. Sure he visits an onsen from time to time to bathe and get his hair wet but he rarely does more than that.

Akira wrinkles her nose, already reaching for a rose scented shampoo, “yes. Now bend down a bit.”

 

* * *

 

 

Afterwards as Akira steps into a pair of underwear and an oversized flannel shirt she remarks about how nice and clean his hair looks.

Seidou is inclined to agree even as he nervously stands next to the bed. Akira flicks off the light. She crawls into bed and pats the space next to her as an invitation since Seidou seems to be waiting for some sort of cue. He crawls in awkwardly.

Almost immediately she curls up next to him, laying her head on his shoulder and latching on like an octopus.

“You’ll stay right?” She whispers, voice soft even in the dark and quiet room.

“Yeah,” He mumbles, the arm closest to her snaking around her waist and holding her closer. 

She nuzzles in closer, draping her arm across his chest and breathing deeply. 

Seidou lays there in the dark, listening as her breaths deepen and even out and her body grows heavy, just staring at the ceiling. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy for him anymore and when it comes it never stays peaceful. Her arrangement of never staying the night suited him just fine given his violent nightmares that left him sweating and waking up screaming. Despite his yearning to wake up next to her every morning he couldn’t deny the convenience of being able to hide this ugly part of himself from her.

But she had asked and he never was able to say no when it came to her.

He doesn’t want to sleep anyway. He wants to remember this moment even knowing it’ll hurt him later. And who knows if he’ll ever be able to do this again?

Akira does as she wants and she gets what she wants. She wants Amon? She has Amon. She wants Seidou? He gives himself to her without a second thought. She always does as she wants, that’s the privilege of people who live as beautifully as her. He was always content before to simply follow along behind her. No, that was a lie he had been discontent. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her.

Saying “I’m just content as long as I can watch her face from the side” is a romantic notion, but it rarely plays out well in reality. He wants something more, far more, the same way her small silhouette is always reflected at the center of his eyes he wants to be in hers as well. He knows it’s too much. Seidou can not even blame it on the ghoul part of himself, he’s always wanted to devour her entirely, he wanted everything of her. And he wanted to give all of himself to her.  
  
Even getting a small taste was not enough for him, finally sinking his teeth in just left him wanting for more. So while he had tried to hold himself back at first, be the brown haired boy who was always gazing at her from the side, Akira just did as she wanted again.

She rolls over, mostly on top of him now, limbs becoming a mess as they overlap his. He wants to take back the princess comparison from earlier, there was nothing elegant about the way she slept, suffocating him, leaving him unable to move because even when he did she just clung tighter and pulled herself closer. No regard for him whatsoever. He doesn’t mind this though, he doesn’t know how many chances he’ll have like this. Tomorrow morning, most likely she’ll wake up and say it can’t happen again.  
  
He takes a deep breath to calm himself, another mistake, and is suddenly assaulted with her scent. He wonders if she smells so good because he’s a ghoul, or because she’s Akira.   
  
He’s glad she’s asleep. For some reason he does not want to be caught admiring her. She probably would think it disgusting, as if his mismatched eyes would defile her somehow. It’s embarrassing too, embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing.

Akira did as she wanted, and Seidou could never have a single thing he wanted. Even if he tried to, his own mind would sabotage his chance at enjoying it. Like it is right now.  
  
He wants to keep talking to her, but he doesn’t.

He wants to listen to the sound of her breathing and be lulled into a sleep, but he can’t.

Because his head is screaming right now, and it drowns out all other sounds.

He just hopes Akira can’t hear it.

Sleeping beauty is meant to be woken up by a prince, not a starving pauper driven half mad by hunger.

With her limbs messed up and entangled in him, she had rolled over on top of him and he feels her weight against him. He can hear every sound she makes, he feels every fidget, feels the weight of her body pressed against him. He feels everything, he always does, way too much all at once.   
  
Even as Akira got closer, so clumsily, he kept holding himself back. He wants to hold onto her, and bury himself in her as if that might protect him from the nightmares, but he knows if he showed how desperate he was this would never happen again. Even sharing the same bed, even overlapped, he shrinka away as far as he could from her and tried to keep himself still, his trembling to a minimum.   
  
The moonlight from the open blinds spills into the room and he watches its slow arc across her window. Her hair glints silver in the moonlight. It’s at this point that her fidgeting becomes more frequent, her small hand curls into a fist on his chest and her brow furrows. A small whimper escapes. Seidou is frozen for a moment, unsure what to do, but eventually settles for holding her closer. He rubs his thumb across her forehead, over her eyebrows and watches as her face slowly relaxes again and she drifts back off.

At around 5:30 her phones screen lights up. From his angle he can just make out the name in the pop up window.

**Amon Koutarou.  
**

_So you also lose sleep over her huh?_ Sounds about right. Akira inflicted suffering to everyone who loved her. Still, why didn’t Amon do something to help her earlier? She’s obviously been struggling for a while. If he’s this worried about her mental state why didn’t he do something about it?

The questions plague him long after her screen goes black.

He does not so much sleep peacefully as eventually pass out from the exhaustion. This was how it always was. He was used to sleepless nights though, so even that did not put him under for too long.

He wakes shortly after the sun rises and basks in the warmth, content and snug with Akira still clinging to his arm.

 

* * *

  
  
Even when Akira does not want to be, she’s observant of details, so before she’s even fully awake she’s aware that the space beside her is empty and cold. She wonders what it would be like to wake up so content, that she did not worry about the world around her, like gently waking and still thinking you’re dreaming but then she shakes her head for that silly little fantasy.

For a moment she panics. Of course the bed is empty. Of course he left. Of course you’re alone.

_No no,_ she tells herself, shutting her eyes. _He said he would stay._   
  
A foggy memory enters her mind. She had felt a soft, trembling thing at some point in the night and woke up, still dazed, worrying for Seidou. Perhaps he’s not as strong as he seemed, perhaps he’s still putting on a face for her. He must have left the bed shortly after that she tells herself, and then her eyes hone in on the dim green light of her phone alerting her to a notification.   
  
When the name Amon appears onscreen she opens the bedside drawer and slams it closed with the phone in it. She could pick it up later, or never just like she had ignored his last messages. It would be better if Seidou never found it though.   
  
She saw the scene in movies plenty of times. Fiction was a good substitute for human relationships when you were lonely. And she was plenty lonely. Even surrounded by people, or with Amon she was lonely. The brooding male love interest finally gets a night with the woman of his dreams only to disappear by the next morning, the sheets dramatically thrown across the floor to show their emptiness.. Perhaps she’s flattering herself too much to call herself the woman of Seidou’s dreams.

She sees the bed is a mess and wonders if Seidou fell out of it. Too bad she was asleep for that, she could have laughed at him as he tried to make his smooth recovery and completely failed.   
  
Instead she spots his silhouette lazily walking around half naked, clad only in his pair of boxers from last night. He seems to have no qualms about that after living as a ghoul. Perhaps he’s showing off now that he’s about as muscular as Amon… though, with a thinner frame that makes it easier to slide her hands around.

_You’re such a cruel girl for comparing them,_ she tells herself, squeezing her eyes shut again as she remembers Amon’s frame sleeping next to her every night with his arm thrown across her chest, the way his hand could cup her whole face. She bites back a sob. She’s not supposed to miss him.

Seidou used to put such careful care into his appearance. She saw him sneaking away to the bathroom to fuss over his appearance in the mirror more than the girls ever did. He always wore his suits so tightly tailored, and he readjusted his tie about five times a day. She had noticed all those details without realizing it. Now he’s walking around with his hair completely frizzed from bedhead the only straight part of it is the feather that sticks up in the center of his white hair. His skin is almost completely colorless, and his lips are dark black, none of these features should have complimented each other but somehow they did. His features all melt together and all she can see is Seidou, and she is melted by them.  
  
However what did that make her? She’s like a doll who can dress herself up, but unless she does that she looked like a barely contained mess. It was not the room that was the mess, it was just her. She had to be shaped, moulded into something else each day just to get through. But there wasn’t any feeling behind anything she did. He stayed… why did he stay? Did he want to see her in the morning? It’s not like he could make breakfast.

She a little to herself at the realization he really had stayed. Deciding to show him something other than a mess she silently steps into the bathroom and locks the door forcefully behind her with a slam.   
  
Some time later she has a face on her, enough that she appears beautiful and functioning on the outside though she feels wretched and empty inside, and when she steps out of the bathroom Seidou has a plastic bag in his hand. Apparently, he found his sweatpants and walked to the corner store in just those. She wonders where his newfound confidence had come from. She could certainly use some. All her confidence is a ruse afterall.   
  
She tilts her head as a silent question but says nothing. Instead she takes a seat on the stool by the counter. As she watches him from the back, specifically the muscles on his back that pulled tight underneath his skin as he stretched and then put a frying pan on the stove.   
  
“You know how to cook?”

“I spent most of my life a human you know, or are you forgetting?” No, she didn’t forget. How could she forget that boy? He was her first crush.   
  
“I’m just surprised you learnt in the first place.”   
  
“I taught myself because I wanted to make a good house husband for you one day.”   
  
“Liar.” She says because she doesn’t know what else to say or how to take it.   
  
“I just wanted to see if I could make you blush.”   
  
“You’ll have to try harder.”   
  
“Your standards are too high, lower them please, I’m but a simple stitched together ghoul, and half my stitches are loose already, I don’t wanna work any more than I gotta.”   
  
Oh. That was right.

Her Seidou had been torn apart at the seams, his arm breaking off of him like a cruel child throwing a toy away. Only to be meticulously repaired. Repaired so well she almost did not recognize him by the time she found him again.

Somehow she forgot.

Perhaps because it was convenient to forget and she always did what was convenient. Some hard working daughter she was. 

She wonders if there’s anyway to repair those loose stitches of his, or if she’s being foolish for thinking she can fix them.  
  
“I’m surprised you didn’t forget how to cook… after all this time.”

There were times he was more lucid then others and other times that he disappeared entirely in the darkness, no he became the darkness because of his own cowardice but… there had always been a light he reached towards. He doesn’t want Akira to see the darkness in him. But if he gets to be in her light, even for a little while and that would be enough.

Not for a single moment did he stop looking towards that light. His eyes trailed across the room until he saw the morning sun, reflecting off of Akira’s hair. His old self would have said something like the sun only existed to highlight her beauty, compared to her everything else was just background details, the stars, the sun, everything that glitters were just metaphors for her. Yeah, something like that.

He dumped the eggs on her plate trying to seem as casual as possible. Briskly, he turned away from her because the light was getting too bright for someone like him. Yet still, even looking away from her he says it.     
  
“I never forget anything from back then. I don’t wanna.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with me and free cookies if you're able to guess where my ghost writer took over (I tried to make it as seamless as possible).
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you feel so inclined please leave a kudos or a comment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This may or may not become a multi-chapter fic, it'll depend on how well my brain and life cooperate. 
> 
> Please leave a kudos or comment if you liked this (or if you didn't)


End file.
